


Resisting Temptation

by ScribeShan



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, One Shot, Quintis - Freeform, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:37:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeShan/pseuds/ScribeShan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team's working late, but Happy wants to play. Toby, on the other hand, isn't exactly in the mood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resisting Temptation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DramaticTendency](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaticTendency/gifts).



> I needed a little break from The Curtis Method, so I posted a a Flowers and Prompts Ask Meme on Tumblr (https://scribeshan.tumblr.com/post/148761603977/flowers-and-prompts). DramaticTendency requested Quintis and Quince, which symbolizes temptation. This is what I came up with.
> 
> Here you go, Sam! I had a blast writing this one. Hope you enjoy!

She watches as Toby rummages in the garage’s fridge, then casts a glance back to the bullpen. It’s late, but Paige is hunched over her laptop, working on the paperwork from their latest Homeland case. Cabe headed home already, but Walter and Sly are working in the loft, and Ralph is sacked out on the couch. She sets her tools down quietly, so Paige won’t notice, and slips up behind him as he pulls a soda from the fridge and sets it on the counter.

She wraps her arms around him from behind, pressing her forehead to his spine between his shoulderblades. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says, without his characteristic playfulness. “Are you tired? Ready to go home?”

“Hmm-mmm,” she mumbles, and presses a tiny kiss between his shoulderblades. He’d been in a bad mood all day. To her surprise, he only stiffens.

“Do you want something to drink?”

She hums a negative response, and begins trailing feather-light kisses up his spine. “Want something else, though.” She reaches the collar of his t-shirt and he squirms out of her grip. 

“Hap,” he sighs, stepping away. “If you’re not tired, I’m gonna keep working on this.” He gestures back toward his desk.

She huffs, a little put off in spite of herself. “What’s eating you?”

“You are,” Toby whisper-screams, drowning in exasperation. “Alive! It’s like you're trying to swallow me whole and spit out the bones, like an owl.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Happy, sweetheart, love of my life,” he drawls sarcastically, bringing himself eye level with her and taking her face in his hands. “I love you more than life itself, but if you don’t get the hell away from me for a few hours, I’m going to crawl out of my own skin.”

Happy scrunches her face up. “What?!?”

“You’re grumpy as hell! I mean, _the antichrist_ is not this grumpy.”

“No, I’m not! I just don’t feel great in the mornings, and sometimes in the afternoons either, and _you_ know why that is,” she jabs her finger at his chest gently.

“Yes, I do know why that is, Happy, and I’m thrilled,” he lowers his voice further, even as his arm movements become more animated. “This morning sickness has been hell on you, and I’m so sorry, and to make matters worse, since we’re trying to keep it under wraps,” he gestures back toward the bullpen, “for now, you have to try to hide the fact that you feel like death warmed over. Happy, if I could do this _for_ you or _with_ you, God knows I would, but I’m doing everything I can to help, to be supportive.”

“You are!” Happy spreads her hands. “You’re being amazing! That’s why,” she closes the distance between them, unable to fight her grin, “I wanted to say thank you.”

Toby leans back at the waist. “No, you don’t. That’s just the estrogen and your subconscious talking.”

Happy crosses her arms and arches an eyebrow. “My subconscious.” 

Toby nods vigorously. “It’s primal. Your subconscious is telling you you’re irresistibly attracted to me, because I’m your partner and,” he drops his voice so low he’s practically mouthing, “father of your child.” He stands straight again. “It’s biology. It’s not about me at all. I’m just some…piece of…man meat to you right now. Ten minutes from now you’ll be more tempted by that godawful ice cream-potato chip-Sriracha concoction you’ve been making.”

“What makes you think I’m not _actually_ attracted to you?”

“I’m bringing you every form of ginger on the planet and it’s not working, and I know that’s frustrating, but this morning, you slapped that candied ginger back in my face like I’d told you I was sleeping with your sister,” Toby says. “I learned how to make you peppermint tea, and you decided its efficacy would be highest if I was wearing it. When I suggested moderate exercise, you threw your sneakers at my head, and when I tried to show you a little physical affection, you shoved me away, said I’d done enough, and that if I was bored I should _go read a book_.” He points back to his desk. “So I am.”

Happy throws her hands up. “Well, you can’t take any of that personally, that was Morning Sickness Happy!”

“Morning Sickness Happy is not fit for man nor beast,” he grumbles. “Gum Drop,” he steps forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I know this is happening to you, but Morning Sickness Happy is kind of making sure it’s happening to _me_ , too. I’ll be fine, and I’m sorry. I just need a break.”

“But it’s nighttime,” Happy hears herself whine. “Nighttime Happy is…” she hooks her fingers in two of his belt loops and pulls him closer. “Sexytime Happy.”

Toby rolls his eyes. “Unfortunately, she looks just like the woman who yesterday asked me if I was distracted by something shiny the day they taught ovulation at Harvard.”

Happy sighs. “Morning Sickness Happy is turning out to be a bit of a wet blanket on my sex life.”

Toby tosses his can of soda up in the air and spins 180 degrees before catching it. “Mine, too,” he says as he walks back toward his desk. “Find some other way to pass the time, Love. Tonight, Dr. Tobias M. Curtis is closed for business.”

Happy puffs her cheeks out as she returns to her workbench. She drums her fingers on the tabletop as Paige continues to tap away on her laptop. This simply will not do. She watches Toby pick his pacing back up, a book in each hand, and has to suppress a groan. That was so. Damned. Hot. And what got her all worked up in the first place.

She paces behind the workbench, then feels her face split into a grin. She looks over at him and slowly pulls the elastic out of her hair, flipping her hair over her shoulder as it spills down her back.

Toby grins, but rolls his eyes.

“Dammit,” she whispers to herself. She looks down and nearly laughs out loud. Of course. The _other_ ever-present gift from the baby. This one, Toby actually did appreciate. Or obsess over, was more like it. She unzips her jacket and slides it down her arms, relieved she’d worn a scoop neck tank top today. She can almost see Toby’s pupils dilate from across the room.

She spends the next ten minutes finding reasons to bend further and further over her workbench. Toby keeps his eyes trained on her over top of his books, but never breaks his pacing. 

“What’s the matter with you?”

Happy is jarred from her seduction task to find Paige staring at her. “What? Nothing.”

“Does your back hurt, or something? Why are you standing like that?”

Happy feels her face heat up. “I…yeah, it was kinda tight.”

Paige shrugs. “You should try yoga.”

“Yoga’s great for the back,” Toby says in that lyrical tone of his. “But be warned, it can skyrocket the libido.”

Happy knocks a crescent wrench off her table.

She hears her text chime as she recovers the tool from the floor. She checks her messages. Toby. _Not that I’m not enjoying the view, but I am still closed for business._

She’s still looking at the screen when his next text appears. _Me AND my magic fingers._

She looks back across the garage to see him toss his phone to the desk and prop his chin in his hand, being sure to lay his fingers prominently on the side of his face. Her knees damn near go weak. That bastard.

She grabs her phone and her bag and backs toward the door. _This…_ this is war. 

“Are you leaving?” Paige asks.

Happy feels sure she looks like the cat that ate the canary. “In a minute,” she says. “I installed a new camera lens in my phone that’s supposed to be better at night, I wanted to…take a couple test shots first.” She looks directly at Toby for the last part, who simply shakes his head.

“Good night, then,” Paige says.

“See you tomorrow.”

The door clangs shut behind Happy. “Whatever sick sexual game the two of you are playing,” Paige looks at Toby and jerks her head toward the door. “Go play it elsewhere. I have work to do.”

Toby cocks his head to the side. “You know, don’t you?”

“Oh, yeah.” 

“Paige…” he rolls his chair over to hers. “We’re not saying anything because we’re trying to get our heads around it, trying to figure out a plan for what to do for cases as she gets further along, and because things go wrong in the first trimester…”

“Toby, it’s your… _amazing_ news to tell, when you two want to tell it,” Paige smiles. “You don’t owe me an explanation. But she’s been so green the past few weeks, only those idiots,” she points to the loft, “would have missed it. Anyway, go home! Take it from someone who’s been there, morning sickness is no joke. Give her a break and go have some fun, while you can.”

“I’m going _nowhere,”_ Toby says. “I am not her sexual plaything. There are consequences for her actions, and I am a human being with _feelings_ , Paige, I can’t just be turned on and off like some machine that —”

His text chime sounds. He picks his phone up and opens the photo Happy has sent. Paige watches as his eyebrows shoot into his hairline. “Aaaand we are _open for business_. Goodnight, pal.”

He’s out the door before Paige finishes laughing.


End file.
